


Still Breathing

by two_of_swords



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Explicit blow job but the rest of the sex is not that explicit, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scenes, Pre-Dreamer Trilogy, Ties in with the Opal short story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_of_swords/pseuds/two_of_swords
Summary: A collection of moments that leave you breathless.Set during the time of the Opal short story.





	Still Breathing

Ronan refuses to sleep.

He can’t remember how many hours he has gone without it at this point. He lies on his back in Gansey’s bed, staring up at Monmouth’s high ceilings and listening to Gansey’s slow breathing - every inhale and exhale nothing short of a miracle - living proof that they are now all at least halfway to sainthood, as long as their brand of magic follows the same basic rules for canonization.

Sargent is pressed against Gansey’s other side, her hand on his chest, right over his heart - counting heartbeats the same way Ronan counts breaths. Her eyes are closed though, finally lulled to sleep by the rhythmic _thump-thump_.

Cheng is curled up on the sofa across the room, exhausted from playing mediator with Gansey’s family when the rest of them refused to speak.

Adam is gone.

Ronan can’t remember how he’s supposed to feel about that. The only thing he knows for sure is that he needs to take a piss and his face is itchy where the black unmaking has dried and cracked, like that shit Orla had on her face that one time they showed up at Fox Way late in the evening for some reason or another and she shrieked and raced up the stairs and argued with Calla through the bathroom door. It was one of their more pleasant visits to Fox Way, in Ronan’s opinion.

He sits up and attempts to make his brain communicate to the rest of his body to stand and walk to the bathroom. It’s harder than it should be, but eventually he makes it. He relieves himself and then stands in front of the mirror, scrubbing at his face with a dry, dirty towel and shaky hands.

“You should probably just get in the shower,” Adam suggests, his voice soft and kind. He stands in the doorway in a clean pair of sweats and a thin t-shirt.

Ronan thinks that maybe he’s hallucinating. Or dreaming. He isn’t sure if there’s a difference anymore, except there isn’t much of a difference between his dreams and reality either. He sighs and drops the towel into the basin. “I don’t think I can stand for that long.” He sways and grips the edge of the sink.

Adam rushes to his side to hold him up. He swipes the toilet seat and lid down in one swift motion and pushes Ronan towards it. “Sit, Lynch. Let me help you.”

Ronan sits. He doesn’t look at Adam, just stares at the wall, his burning eyes unblinking.

“You need to sleep,” Adam says, turning on the water and letting it run. Ronan doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t refuse, which Adam probably sees as progress. Ronan turns to Adam and watches the graceful movement of his hands as he tests the water’s temperature before soaking the cleaner end of the towel and wringing it out.

He approaches Ronan and stands between his legs, tilting Ronan’s stubbled chin up with his free hand. They lock eyes for a moment before Adam brings the towel up to his face and begins to rub gently. The thicker parts of the black unmaking flake off easily, but other parts are a bit more stubborn. Adam scrubs harder and harder until Ronan’s face stings with irritation.

“That’s the best I can do,” he says, tossing the towel back into the sink. Ronan looks up at him and the dissatisfaction on Adam’s face nearly breaks him. He loops his arms around Adam, pulling him close, burying his face in Adam’s soft t-shirt and letting his hot breath soak through the thin fabric. Adam reaches down and strokes his prickly scalp, long overdue for a shave. The touch is so gentle that Ronan can’t hold in the tears any longer. Adam doesn’t say anything, he just holds onto Ronan, tighter and tighter, until the shaking subsides.

They retreat to Ronan’s room and shut the door. Orphan Girl made a nest for herself under the desk with the discarded parts of Ronan’s Aglionby uniform, which he can’t think of a better use for, really, and Chainsaw is in her cage, though he can’t remember putting her there. The door is still open, so she must have gone in on her own. He’s suddenly, overwhelmingly proud of his dream creatures.

Adam takes his hand and pulls him down onto the bed and into his arms. They lay on the same pillow, facing each other.

“You came back,” Ronan says, keeping his voice low.

“I told you I was just going to St. Agnes to shower and change.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You’re kind of out of it.”

“Is it safe?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

“You didn’t say the thing.”

“What thing?”

“Gansey’s thing.”

“Safe as life?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I don’t need to say it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I chose it - my hands, my eyes, my life. The demon has no power over me anymore. It’s gone.”

“So is Cabeswater.”

Adam hesitates before whispering, “Yes.”

Ronan doesn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to fully understand what that means for Adam. He runs his fingers lightly over the scratches on Adam’s face and whispers back, “I’m sorry.”

Adam leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Ronan’s forehead, then to his cheek, finally to his lips.

Ronan buries his face in Adam’s neck and inhales the familiar scent of mist and moss and cheap soap and finally closes his eyes.

Ronan drifts back to a dreamless consciousness when he hears his bedroom door creak open. His first impulse is to lash out at the person who dares enter his room, but then he feels Adam stir and his eyelids don’t really want to open anyway, so he lets it slide this time.

“Is he ok?” he hears Gansey ask.

“He’s finally sleeping,” Adam responds.

“Can I…” Gansey starts to say, but trails off.

Adam doesn’t answer, but he must make some kind of gesture, because Ronan feels his hand lift from its resting place in the middle of his back and immediately misses it once its gone, but then the mattress sags under Gansey’s added weight and he presses against Ronan’s back, making up for the absence.

The bed doesn’t realistically fit three teenage boys, but they make the best of it, until some time the next morning when Adam finally complains about not being able to feel his arm. Ronan moves and _accidentally_ pushes Gansey out of the bed and onto the floor where Sargent and Cheng have curled up with extra blankets and pillows at some point in the middle of the night. The _oof_ sound that Gansey makes when he hits the floor diffuses their lingering fears and maybe also their lingering sanity. Orphan Girl shrieks and Chainsaw squawks and they all laugh until they can’t breathe.

*********

 

“I don’t think you should go,” Ronan says.

Sargent nearly spits out her mediocre iced tea. Then she glares at him. Her legs are too short to kick him properly under the table of the Nino’s booth, probably, so the eye daggers are the best she can do. It’s cute.

“We’ve been planning for weeks. You’re just bringing this concern up now?” Gansey asks, his face turns pensive as he signals their waitress for the check.

The truth is Ronan has been thinking about it since the trio first proposed the road trip idea shortly after Christmas. He doesn’t believe for a second that they haven’t all thought about it - that it hasn’t been idling in the back of their minds all along and nobody wants to admit it. He shrugs. “What if it’s not safe?”

Sargent scoffs derisively.

Gansey brings his thumb to his lip, then stops himself.

Cheng feigns ignorance from his chair stuck at the end of the booth, like the fucking fifth wheel that he is.

Adam saves Ronan.

“Ronan’s right. We really don’t know if leaving the ley line will have an effect or not.”

“Gansey’s not a dream,” Sargent argues.

“Cabeswater was,” Adam responds.

“The physical manifestation of it, yes, but you said yourself that Cabeswater existed before as something else.”

“On the ley line,” Adam reminds her.

_Fuck_ , it’s nice to have someone on his side. Ronan slowly removes his elbows from the table and leans back against the orange vinyl booth, discreetly placing a hand on Adam’s thigh.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Adam give him a _look_.

Ronan takes a page out of Cheng’s book. Maybe he’s not so bad to have around afterall.

“But I feel fine,” Gansey protests, as the waitress returns with the check and sets it in front of him.

“When was the last time you left Henrietta?” Adam asks.

They all know the answer. Gansey has been avoiding his parents since the fall.

Ronan doesn’t want to ruin their fun and he certainly doesn’t begrudge them their gap year. He’s taking a gap _rest-of-his-life_ , after all. But there’s so much they still don’t understand about what happened that weekend. He isn’t sure they should take any chances. At least not until he figures things out. He just needs more time to figure things out.

He doesn’t say any of this, of course, so he just says, “Maybe you should go away for a weekend first. You know, test it out. Conduct an experiment.”

“That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had, Lynch,” Cheng says, beaming.

“Fuck you, Cheng,” Ronan responds, but he can’t manage to put any heat behind it and Cheng’s smile grows even wider.

Gansey laughs and Sargent lets out a breath.

Adam clears his throat and shifts closer to Ronan, hooking his right ankle around Ronan’s left. _Oh_ . Adam likes it when Ronan has _ideas_.

“This has been fun, but we gotta go,” Ronan says, standing up abruptly, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the hanging light fixture. He pulls out his wallet and throws a stack of bills down on the table before anyone can say anything. “You ready, Parrish?”

“What’s the rush?” Gansey asks, his brow furrowed.

“Picked up an extra shift,” Adam lies swiftly, so Ronan doesn’t have to. They make a great fucking team.

Adam slides out of the booth, bids a hasty goodbye and bolts for the BMW.

As much as Adam’s urgency thrills Ronan, he kind of wants to fuck with him a little. He turns left out of the NIno’s parking lot instead of right.

“Where are you going?” Adam whines.

“The Barns,” Ronan responds, keeping his voice casual.

“But St. Agnes is right there.”

“Your shitbox is at the Barns. And _they_ have to drive by St. Agnes on the way to Monmouth. It makes logical sense,” Ronan says, knowing it’s not fair to use Adam’s rational side against him, but doing it anyway.

Adam groans and Ronan does nothing to hide his smug grin.

It means Ronan has to wait twenty-five minutes to kiss his boyfriend, rather than two, but he likes the way the tension builds during the drive. He likes how Adam studies the way he shifts. He likes how Adam clutches the strap above the door when he goes around curves a little too fast. He likes how Adam reaches over and runs his hand up the back of his shaved head, as if they are already kissing.

Turns out twenty-five minutes is a long fucking time to wait to kiss your boyfriend when he’s looking at you like that. Ronan slides into the driveway and they’re out of their seatbelts and on each other before he’s barely even hauled up the parking brake.

Their kissing is sloppy, and Ronan feels like he can’t get close enough to Adam. Without breaking from Adam’s lips, he reaches down and pulls a lever. His seat jerks backwards and he pulls Adam over the center console and onto his lap.

Adam lets out a startled gasp, then grins as he now has access to Ronan’s neck. He makes excellent use of it. Ronan probably should be embarrassed by the sounds he’s making, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed by anything that feels that good. Adam moves to adjust his position and Ronan feels how hard they both are through their jeans. His eyes flutter open at the sensation and he catches a glimpse of movement outside the car.

“Shit,” he says, his body stilling beneath Adam.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, then continues to work on Ronan’s neck.

“We’ve got company.”

Adam jumps quickly back into the passenger seat and faces forward. He scrubs a hand through his hair as he tries to catch his breath. Then he squints out the window at the plum trees that line the gravel parking area in front of the house. “Is that…?”

“A pair of hooves? Yeah.”

“We should have gone to St. Agnes.”

*********

 

Ronan locks the door of the long barn and kicks it lightly in frustration - another day of unproductive dreaming. No, unproductive isn’t quite the right word. _Useless_. Useless is a much better description. What’s Adam going to do with half a laptop, for fuck’s sake? Ronan sighs. It’s so much harder to dream without Cabeswater.

He pushes away from the door and heads back to the house, taking his bad mood with him. The sunset sky tries valiantly to sway him - all ablaze with brilliant oranges and pinks and reds against the backdrop of the purple mountains - a promise of better weather, warmer weather to come. It fails. Ronan has never been so easily swayed.

As he approaches the driveway, he sees Adam’s tri-color disaster of a car crookedly parked halfway between the road and the parking area, as if the car had thought about parking straight but just couldn’t bring itself to finish the job.

He breathes in. He breathes out.

He smiles for maybe the first time that day and bounds up the front porch stairs.

“Parrish?” He calls out to the empty living room. The house is eerily quiet. Opal is probably out roaming again. He briefly wonders if he should be worried, but decides against it. She knows the rules.

Adam isn’t in the kitchen either, but Chainsaw is. She’s busy shredding a piece of junk mail she pulled from the garbage can, likely to be used to hide something shiny from Opal. “Stay out of there,” he scolds, but he doesn’t really mean it. He just wishes his dream creatures were a little less enamored with the trash. Chainsaw eyes him warily and continues shredding. “And don’t look at me like that,” he adds, before heading upstairs.

Ronan finds Adam in his bedroom, collapsed face-down on the bed, boots dangling off the edge. He hadn’t even made it up to the pillows. Ronan’s mouth quirks. He moves toward Adam without making a sound and contemplates if he can get Adam’s boots off without waking him. He crouches down and gently pulls on the laces of the left boot. Adam doesn’t stir as Ronan slips it off and sets it down on the rug. The right boot is a little trickier since Adam’s right leg is tucked up closer to the edge of the mattress. Ronan can’t untie it like the left one. He gives the boot an experimental tug and Adam straightens his leg out, to Ronan’s advantage. He unties it quickly and pulls. Just as the boot gives way, Adam rolls over onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. Ronan sits back on the floor, guiltily holding the boot in his hands.

“Are you undressing me, Lynch?” Adam asks, his voice scratchy from sleep.

“You looked uncomfortable,” Ronan says, tossing the boot aside. “I was trying to help.”

Adam stares at him for several long moments. “Keep going.”

“What?” But Ronan hears him and Adam knows it, so he doesn’t repeat himself. Ronan definitely wants to keep going but this isn’t something they have been doing for very long. Adam took the lead the first time making out escalated to something more and it had been such an amazing, beautiful, transformative experience that it’s going to be a while before Ronan can do laundry again without getting aroused.

Ronan lets his gaze trail down to the bare strip of Adam’s abdomen where his t-shirt has ridden up above the fold of his coveralls. He glances back up at Adam’s face and the fucker is biting his lower lip like a goddamn fucking porn star.

Ronan is on his knees in between Adam’s legs in less than half a second. He loosens the vacated arms of the coveralls and yanks down the zipper. Adam cants his hips upward, thinking that Ronan is going to pull the coveralls off, but instead, Ronan slowly presses his lips to the exposed patch of skin.

“Oh, God,” Adam moans and falls back onto the bed. Ronan is pretty sure he can come just from hearing Adam utter those two precious words _like that_ again. He distracts himself by pushing up Adam’s shirt and working his way across his stomach with more tender kisses. He hasn’t quite worked up the nerve to go lower yet. Adam breathes fast now, his stomach rising and falling to meet Ronan’s lips. He props himself back up on his elbows just as Ronan reaches the top of his hip bones and nips lightly at the skin there. Ronan can feel Adam’s erection pressing into his clavicle and it’s unbearably, inevitably close to his mouth. If he’s ever going to do this, now is the time.

Ronan tugs the coveralls down a bit further, his hand hovering just above the waistband of Adam’s boxers. He looks up at Adam, asking him a silent question. Adam swallows and nods swiftly. Ronan pulls the boxers down until Adam’s cock springs free of the fabric. His own breath hitches. He has thought about this moment - _dreamt_ of this moment - for so long. Now that it’s here though, he stalls. It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do. He definitely does. He just can’t believe it’s actually happening. That he’s really about to do this. There’s no going back. He doesn’t want to go back.

He has gotten Adam off with his hand before so he starts with a couple of familiar light strokes along the velvety skin of his shaft. Adam closes his eyes and lets out a huff of breath, but he remains propped up on his elbows. He doesn’t want to miss this, Ronan thinks. He grins and leans forward, touching his tongue tentatively to the underside of the head of Adam’s cock. Adam’s eyes shoot open in surprise and his whole body jerks. The reaction is unexpected and Ronan will do just about anything to make it happen again. He holds Adam’s gaze and licks slowly from base to tip. Adam’s dick twitches in response and he closes his eyes and moans again. It’s music to Ronan’s ears. He keeps licking and kissing the shaft and swirling his tongue around the head, while Adam pants, head thrown back. When Ronan finally takes the length of Adam’s cock in his mouth and sucks, Adam’s hips leap off the bed unexpectedly and Ronan nearly gags.

“Shit, Ronan, sorry,” Adam says. “I didn’t know… I didn’t expect…” He lets out a surprised laugh and falls back onto the bed, covering his face with one of his arms, chest heaving.

“Fuck, Parrish, do you want me to stop?” Ronan asks, gripping the base of Adam’s cock, the tip now slick with spit and pre-come. Ronan is nearly overcome with the desire to taste it, but he waits for Adam.

“Please don’t stop,” Adam begs. “It feels so fucking good.”

Ronan loves it when Adam swears for the fun if it, so he rewards him by taking him in his mouth again, the bitter, tangy taste of Adam on his tongue. He feels his own erection straining against his jeans now. He presses himself flush against the side of the mattress to try to ease some of the pressure. His knees ache, but they can go fuck themselves. He makes obscene sucking noises as he works Adam’s shaft, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. He reaches his free hand under Adam’s ass and grips it tight as he takes Adam deeper into his mouth.

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam says, stretching out the vowels as long as he can. “I’m not gonna… last…”

Ronan gets in two more long pulls with his mouth before Adam tenses and says “I’m gonna come.”

Ronan withdraws his mouth from Adam and strokes him through his orgasm, the white, hot fluid spurting onto Adam’s bare stomach and pooling there. Without thinking, Ronan strips off his shirt and mops up the mess with it, careful not to get any on Adam’s clothes.

“That’ll stain, you know,” Adam says, kicking his coveralls off and pulling up his boxers.

“Sure,” Ronan agrees, using a clean part to wipe his mouth before tossing the shirt onto the heap of dirty clothes piled everywhere except inside the hamper.

Adam huffs. “You’re terrible. Come here.”

Ronan flops down on his back on the bed next to Adam and turns his face toward him. “So?” He grins.

“Not bad, Lynch” Adam teases.

“Asshole,” Ronan says, swatting him on the chest with the back of his hand.

Adam grabs Ronan’s hand and laces their fingers together. He brings it slowly to his mouth and places gentle kisses along Ronan’s knuckles.

Ronan leans forward and kisses him, then rolls onto his back, pulling Adam on top of him. He reaches down and cups the back of Adam’s leg, bringing his thigh up until it rests perfectly between his legs. And then the sensation explodes. Ronan’s jeans are a little too tight in the crotch again, but he has Adam’s thigh to grind against now, rather than the mattress. They’ve done this before. This is good too.

Adam breaks away from his mouth. “Do you want me to…”

“Not yet,” Ronan pants. He doesn’t want to be so close to the edge already the first time Adam blows him. He uses his other hand to pull Adam’s head back down to his. He groans into Adam’s mouth as he comes in his pants. Adam rolls off him and they both stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch their breath.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” Ronan says, once his breathing slows.

“I finished up at Boyd’s early and there’s no class tomorrow, and I’ve barely seen you all week, so I figured…”

“You missed me, Parrish?”

“Enough to get myself stranded at your house.”

“So what’s up with your car?”

“It died on that last hill and then I couldn’t get it running again, so I just coasted downhill as far as I could. I need to replace the starter.”

“It died or it stalled?”

“I know how to drive, shithead.”

“Do you?”

Adam kicks him. “I would have made it if one of your deer hadn’t been standing in the middle of the road.”

“Couldn’t have been one of mine.”

“Yeah, it was,” Adam protests in full blown Henrietta accent. ”The pale one with the big antlers.”

Ronan laughs. “What are you going to do about the shitbox?”

“Will you help me move it tomorrow? I can work on it here if that’s alright with you, since you’ve got the space.”

Like Ronan would ever say no to Adam spending more time at the Barns. “Fine with me. You want me to dream up some parts for you? Tell me what you need.”

“No, I want to fix it the right way,” Adam says, dismissively.

The comment stings more than Ronan cares to admit. He gets up abruptly from the bed and aggressively strips off his dirty jeans and boxers. Adam sits up and watches him pull on a clean pair of underwear and sweats.

“Oh come on, Lynch, I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant,” Ronan replies, and he heads downstairs to look for something to make for dinner.

They pass the rest of the night in relative quiet. Adam works on his homework and then plays with Opal once she returns from the day’s adventure. Adam goes to bed first, his earlier nap not putting a dent in his sleep deficit. When Ronan finally makes his way upstairs, he’s surprised once again to find Adam asleep in his bed. He usually sleeps in Declan’s room when he spends the night. Ronan’s irritation melts away as he climbs in, snuggling up close behind Adam and throwing an arm around him.

In the morning, Adam wakes Ronan up by planting kisses down the entire length of his body. When he takes Ronan in his mouth - a glorious atonement for the previous night’s thoughtless words - Ronan thinks maybe he can be easily swayed afterall.

*********

 

Ronan invites everyone to the Barns for a cookout after church one Sunday in early June. It’s technically a going-away party for Gansey, Sargent and Cheng, but nobody calls it that. Ronan calls it an excuse to light up the grill and then maybe the fire pit later. Adam calls Ronan a pyromaniac.

“Fuck, Parrish, it was one small building and it was an _accident,”_ Ronan defends himself.

“Accidents usually don’t come with their own theme music,” Adam replies.

Sargent corners Ronan just as he finishes loading up the grill.

“I want to give you something,” she says, voice low. She holds her hand out to Gansey and lightly snaps her fingers to get his attention. Gansey digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over without interrupting his conversation with Maura and Adam.

“What the fuck, Sargent? I gave you a car,” Ronan jokes, as he watches her enter Gansey’s passcode and pull up the mostly one-sided thread of text messages. “Hey, don’t read that. It’s private.”

She looks up at him and rolls her eyes. “Please.”

Ronan can’t even remember the last thing Gansey texted him about, but he’s pretty sure his response was either yes or no. Most likely, no.

Sargent attaches what looks like a video to a new message and hits send. It takes several seconds to load, but soon, Ronan feels the corresponding buzz in his pocket.

“What is it?” he asks, instead of just checking the damn message already, like everyone constantly harasses him to do.

Sargent shifts nervously and glances over at Gansey and Adam again. She grabs Ronan’s arm and hauls him into the house and away from where the others are loitering in the backyard.

Chainsaw preens on the kitchen counter, while Opal runs circles around the table in her awkward tall boots. Leave it to Cheng to work her into a frenzy by chasing her around the yard before magically disappearing with Declan to check out the leftover dream things in one of the barns.

“What are you two doing in here? It’s way too nice for you to be inside. Outside, now!” Ronan demands, holding the door open and gesturing for bird and girl to exit. They both growl at Ronan and then at each other, before flapping out the door, one right after the other.

“Look,” Sargent begins, directing Ronan’s attention back to her. “I know you had your reasons for not going to graduation, but I was worried you might regret it, so I recorded Adam’s speech on Gansey’s phone.”

“Holy fuck. Does he know?”

“I don’t think so. I tried to be discreet. The angle is bad, but the sound quality is decent enough.”

Ronan paws frantically at his front pocket.

“No,” Sargent yelps, grabbing his hand. “Don’t watch it yet.”

“Why not?” He desperately wants to watch. Now he remembers his last text message to Gansey:

 

_How’d Parrish do?_

 

And Gansey's response:

 

_He brought down the house._

_For real this time._

 

Ok. So Ronan regrets it a little.

“Just… wait. You have the whole summer together. Save it for when things get hard and you need a reminder of what it’s all been for. Promise me?”

Ronan doesn’t want to think about what it would take to get to that moment with Adam, so he just glares at her. Something about the pleading look on her face, though, makes him soften his own. He removes his hand from her grip. “Sure. Whatever.”

They return to the backyard.

“Food ready yet?” Cheng calls, as he and Declan walk around the corner of the house. Opal screeches and runs toward him at full speed. He groans when she barrels into him. He picks her up and swings her around, her legs kicking frantically. “Hey, watch where you put those boots,” he laughs, holding her with one arm while he tries to cover his junk with his free hand.

“Did you find anything?” Ronan asks, lifting the lid on the grill to check the steak and chicken and gross vegetables Sargent insists on desecrating his grill with.

“A few things my mother might be interested in,” Cheng says, setting Opal down on the ground. She springs up and runs for Adam. She collapses at his feet, wrapping her arms around one of his legs and glaring at Cheng the same way Ronan just glared at Sargent. Cheng makes finger guns at her and she grins and buries her face in Adam’s leg. Adam barely moves, just reaches down and pats her gently on the head. As if on cue, Chainsaw lands on Adam’s other shoulder and nuzzles his neck. Ronan’s heart surges at the sight and he laughs at the absurdity of it.

“Oh my God,” Sargent says. “That’s adorable.”

Adam has the audacity to blush. “I don’t know why they’re like this.”

“I do,” Sargent responds.

Gansey laughs. “And they made you valedictorian?”

Ronan thinks he should probably be the one blushing, but he lost the ability to be embarrassed by his living dream creature’s overwhelming affection for Adam Parrish a long time ago, so he just grins at Adam and shrugs.

They eat and talk and laugh around Ronan’s bonfire until it’s time for goodbyes. They take their time gathering in front of the house. Declan and Matthew leave first. Ronan exchanges his secret handshake with Matthew and knocks on the roof of the Volvo as Declan pulls away.

Ronan can’t tell which Pig the Trio piles into, a fact that he uses to avoid any kind of emotional goodbye by bragging about his dreaming prowess and pointing out that the car that is being fixed “the right way” is still up on blocks. Adam rolls his eyes and Ronan briefly wonders if he’s ruined his chances of getting laid tonight. Then he remembers that Adam is a thirsty fucker and decides his chances are still pretty good.

Maura refuses to leave until the Pig’s taillights disappear from view.

“Maura, _come on_ ,” Calla calls, as she climbs into the Ford. “I have a headache. I need some peace and quiet.” She’s clearly had enough sentimentality for one day.

“They’ll be fine,” Adam reassures Maura.

“I know,” she says, smiling through her sadness. She pulls open the passenger door. “Don’t be strangers.”

They don’t make any promises. They have the whole summer ahead of them and a whole new magical dreamspace to manifest. The have mountains to climb and roads to drive and locations to scout. Plenty to do to keep Ronan’s mind off missing Gansey. And maybe Sargent and Cheng too.

“They’ll be fine,” Adam repeats, looping an arm around Ronan’s waist as they watch the last set of taillights depart down the driveway. Ronan thinks maybe he’s reassuring himself a little bit too.

He pulls Adam closer and presses a kiss to his temple. “I take it you’re staying tonight?”

“Yeah. I have to work in the morning though. Can I take your car or do you want to give me a ride?”

Ronan grins wickedly. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“That’s not what I…” Adam begins but Ronan cuts him off with a kiss - a thorough kiss that he knows Adam will feel in his toes. And other parts too, hopefully. Adam’s a little breathless when they part. “Ok… yeah… that too.”

“Horny bastard,” Ronan teases.

Ronan forgets about the graduation video until the end of July when he’s three days into a fight with Adam. It’s a bad one. Maybe their worst yet and Ronan is pissed at Blue Sargent for so accurately predicting this outcome, despite her lack of psychic abilities. He grudgingly admits to himself that she just knows them both too well.

It happens on a Sunday at St. Agnes when Adam crashes there after a late shift at the warehouse, rather than drive the BMW all the way back to the Barns. Ronan calls Declan and asks him to pick him up for church in the morning. When mass ends, Ronan heads upstairs to see if Adam is awake and if he wants to go to lunch with Declan and Matthew before they head back to DC. He’s surprised to see that Adam has a guest. Mrs. Ramirez stands in the middle of the tiny room in her Sunday best, the bright, floral dress creating a strange contrast against the drab, colorless backdrop of the dusty apartment. She greets Ronan warmly before turning back to Adam, who is seated at his desk. “Well, Adam, think about it and let me know. By the end of the week, if possible.”

“I will, ma’am,” Adam says, politely. Ronan ducks out of the way so Mrs. Ramirez can get to the door.

She pauses before crossing the threshold. “It’s always so good to see you and your brothers every Sunday,” she says to Ronan. “Your mother would be so pleased.”

Ronan doesn’t know what to say so he just mumbles a nearly inaudible “thanks” as she proceeds down the stairs.

He looks at Adam. “What was that about?”

Adam turns away without answering and shuffles some papers around on his desk, probably course catalogs and financial aid forms or some other institutional red tape Ronan has no interest in. Maybe Adam didn’t hear him. He takes a couple of steps forward and gently touches him on the shoulder. “Parrish?”

Adam stands and faces Ronan. He reaches up to fiddle with Ronan’s loosened tie, but doesn’t meet his eye and doesn’t lean in for a kiss. Ronan’s senses prickle. He runs a hand up the back of his neck to rub away the phantom tingling sensation.

“She wants to know about the lease,” Adam finally says, dropping Ronan’s tie and letting his hands fall to his side. “Someone is interested in the apartment.”

“It’s about time you got out of this shithole,” Ronan says, glancing around the tiny room, but he doesn’t really mean it. He will miss the place if Adam leaves it for good. He has many fond memories here: crashing on the floor when there was only a whisper of hope that Adam shared his feelings, then sleeping in his bed once there was no doubt left at all. He still remembers the day he handed Adam the slip of paper with the church office number on it, alone in Noah’s old room when they brought his stuff back from the trailer.

“I was going to extend it until I leave for school, but the new tenant needs to move in as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why, Ronan. It’s none of my business,” Adam bristles.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ronan says. “Why is this an issue?”

“Because I don’t have anywhere to go, Ronan.”

“That’s bullshit, Adam,” Ronan says, mocking his tone.

“Come on, it’s convenient to have a place in town when I work late shifts. I can’t just move to the Barns.”

“Why are you still working three fucking jobs?”

“Oh don’t. You’re starting to sound like Gansey.”

“I’m serious. Aglionby is done, college is covered. What else is there?”

“I need money to live, Ronan. I’m not a millionaire like you.”

Ronan wishes Adam would stop saying his name like that. “You’re not doing much living if you’re working all the time. If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have gone with Gansey and Sargent and Cheng.”

“Right. And you would have just left Opal behind.”

Ronan crosses his arms over his chest. “She can fend for herself.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Adam laughs in that cold, cruel way Ronan knows he’s capable of, but hasn’t witnessed in a long time. It fuels Ronan’s rage.

“Stop acting like you have nowhere to go.” Ronan grabs his keys from Adam’s desk and stalks to the door. He throws it open and gives it a healthy slam, before pounding down the stairs. He rips his tie off angrily as he approaches Declan’s Volvo. His brothers lean against the back of the car.

“Where’s Adam?” Matthew asks, innocently.

“He’s not coming.” Ronan moves to get in the passenger seat, but then thinks better of it. “Actually, neither am I.” He heads for the BMW instead.

“Ronan,” Declan says, sternly. Ronan flips him off as he yanks open his car door and slams it shut too. The only thing he wants to do at the moment is drive. He peels out of the mostly empty church parking lot and heads toward the mountains.

On Monday, Ronan throws himself into farm work. There is enough of it to keep him occupied for weeks, if not months. He ignores his phone even more deliberately than usual. He also ignores the long barn.

On Tuesday, Ronan catches himself listening closely, hopefully, for the sound of tires crunching gravel, before he remembers that Adam’s car is sitting on blocks right out front. He retreats to the house to check his phone more than once. There’s only a couple of funny text messages from Matthew and a stern one from Declan. He shoves his phone angrily into his pocket and goes back outside. He takes a couple of turns around the mud track, but he doesn’t feel any better.

On Wednesday night, Ronan lies in bed, unable to sleep, unable to dream, and finally allows himself to think what he’s avoided thinking since Sunday. He wants Adam. He misses Adam. He just wants to hear his voice.

_Lynch, you idiot_ , he thinks.

He picks his phone up from the bedside table and scrolls through Gansey’s rambling texts about the road trip until he gets to the video that Sargent sent weeks ago. He hesitates a moment, just staring at it. Then he sighs and presses play.

At first all he can hear is the rustle of paper graduation programs used as fans and the murmur of a bored crowd likely about to die of heatstroke. All he can see is what he thinks might be the back of Helen Gansey’s head. Then he hears the unmistakable voice of that bastard, Headmaster Child, who is so pleased to announce that a scholarship student has been named the valedictorian of this year’s senior class. When Child says Adam’s name, the back of the head bobs and cheers enthusiastically along with the rest of the crowd. Definitely Helen. Ronan rolls his eyes.

But then he can hear Adam’s voice thanking Child over the whine of the microphone as he adjusts it. Ronan closes his eyes and settles back against the pillows and just listens. To the lilt of Adam’s voice when his nerves betray him and he fails to clip his accent. To the careful delivery of the words, each one painstakingly chosen and obsessed over for months. To the obvious restraint in holding back any hints of sarcasm when he talks about his hopes for his fellow classmates as they take this next step in their journeys through life. To the pride Ronan hears when Adam describes the satisfaction he feels in having overcome personal adversity in order to stand in front of them today as their valedictorian.

Ronan is suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. Not because he didn’t go to graduation. That had never been an issue for them. He had simply been honest with Adam about what he needed and Adam had understood and accepted it. No, Ronan feels guilty because he’s wasted so much time on misplaced anger. It’s not fair of him to be mad at Adam for not always being able to recognize that he can lean on someone other than himself. That he can ask for what he needs and trust that he will only get unconditional love in return.

“Adam?” Opal asks, appearing in the bedroom door. She looks confused and sad when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. “Where’s Adam?”

Ronan pauses the video and wipes at his eyes. He holds the phone up and waves it at her. “You wanna listen?”

She looks at the phone warily, but eventually nods.

Ronan pats the spot on the bed next to him.

Opal hesitates. “I didn’t wash.”

“It’s ok. Just this once.”

She scrambles across the hardwood floor and hops up onto the bed. She scoots close to Ronan and nestles into the crook of his arm, tucking her hooves up under her. “What is it?”

“Adam… won an award. At school,” Ronan struggles to explain. “So he got to talk about it in front of a lot of people.”

“You weren’t there?” She asks.

Ronan shakes his head. “Sargent recorded it on Gansey’s phone.”

“Let me see.”

“You can’t see him, but you can hear him.”

“Okay.”

Ronan starts the video over from the beginning again and watches Opal concentrate hard on Adam’s voice.

When Adam switches to Latin briefly at the end, Opal’s eyes light up. “That’s for us.”

Ronan nods and the tears flow freely. Adam must have known Sargent’s plan all along. Opal squeezes Ronan’s hand.

“Go get him,” she insists.

Ronan doesn’t have to think twice about it. He dresses quickly and bolts down the stairs. Opal holds his keys out for him - fuck knows where she found them.

“Thanks, runt,” he says as he snatches them from her and sprints out to the car in the pouring rain. He makes it to Henrietta faster than should be possible and haphazardly parks in the St. Agnes lot. He takes the stairs two at a time and bangs on the door.

Adam looks wide awake when he opens the door a crack. When he sees Ronan’s face, he throws it open wide and launches himself into Ronan’s arms.

“God, Lynch, I’m so glad to see you.”

“You are? But I was an asshole.”

“So what else is new?” Adam kisses him firmly on the lips and on his chin and on his jaw and then hugs Ronan tight again. “I wanted to call almost as soon as you left, but the phone lines have been down. Power company cut some wires they weren’t supposed to. I tried Boyds, Fox Way, the trailer factory. I even broke into Monmouth. The whole town is out. I was going to walk to the Barns first thing tomorrow even though I knew that would piss you off even more...”

“Parrish!” Ronan says suddenly, interrupting Adam’s monologue. _When did he get so fucking talkative?_ “Can we at least get out of the rain?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Adam says, but he doesn’t let go. He just kind of backs up into the apartment and drags Ronan with him. Ronan kicks the door closed behind him. The air in the apartment is heavy with humidity. Ronan can’t tell if he’s wet from the rain or if he’s just sweating that much, but he refuses to let Adam go. He breathes his relief into the damp skin of Adam’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I should have come sooner. We have so little time left. I’m sorry I wasted it.”

“It’s not your fault. I think I just hadn’t processed the idea of leaving this place behind and I panicked. Sometimes I can’t get out of my own head and I don’t realize I’m being hurtful until it’s too late.”

This is not a revelation. Ronan knows this. And he loves Adam anyway.

“Parrish,” he starts to say, but then he can’t stand it anymore. “It’s hot as balls in here.”

“I know,” Adam laughs. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Ronan steps back and strips off his wet shirt. He takes the towel that Adam hands him and wipes down his head and torso. Adam looks him up and down appreciatively before sitting on the mattress and picking up the book he must have been reading. He turns down a corner to mark his place and sets it on top of the plastic bin next to the bed. A couple of sealed cardboard boxes are stacked next to it.

“You packed?” Ronan asks, taking a seat next to Adam, finally noticing the state of the tiny room.

“I don’t have much,” Adam drawls, reaching out to trace the vines of Ronan’s tattoo.

“You didn’t extend your lease?”

“I’ll be officially homeless by the end of the week. Do you know a place I can stay?”

Ronan smiles. “I have an idea.”

“I also gave my notice at the warehouse and Boyd’s only going to call if he’s short handed.”

“So that just leaves…”

“The trailer factory. I can make the most money there on 4 shifts per week until I leave. I’ve checked the numbers. I’ll have more than enough to cover my expenses for the school year.”

“Damn, Parrish, what are you going to do with all that free time?”

“I have an idea,” Adam says, pushing Ronan down onto the bed and kissing him fiercely.

“I attempted to dream you a phone,” Ronan says, after, as thunder rumbles, soft and distant. A breeze finally drifts through the open window, cooling their sweaty skin. He clasps his hands behind his head and lays his feet in Adam’s lap on the opposite end of the bed. Adam picks up his left foot and starts to massage it gently.

“Oh yeah? What happened?”

“It was the size of a fucking cinder block.”

“That’s useful.”

“Tell me about it.”

Adam grins and then places a light kiss on the arch of Ronan’s foot. He looks so unbearably beautiful in the dim lamp light that Ronan has to look away. He stares at the ceiling and listens to the rain, then he says, “This is the kind of rain I want for the new Cabeswater.”

Adam is quiet for a long time. Then he simply asks, “When?”

Ronan closes his eyes. “Soon.”

 

 

*****

 

Ronan sits on the back porch steps in the dark and looks out over the pond that Adam created, lit only by the fireflies that Ronan created. He’s not feeling well. Not sick, exactly, just not quite himself.

“Hey,” Adam calls, letting the screen door slam behind him. “I’m surprised you’re out here in this heat.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, but tilts his face up expectantly.

Adam leans down to kiss him quickly in greeting, but lingers for a second and a third kiss. He’s in a better mood than Ronan expected.

“You get all your shit?”

“Yeah. Brought the last couple of boxes back with me. Just the mattress is left. You can get that tomorrow after church?”

“I’ll have Matthew help me.”

“Thanks.”

Adam takes a seat on the top stair and wraps an arm around Ronan, resting his chin on Ronan’s shoulder. Even though he’s hot and sticky, Ronan doesn’t mind. He turns his face toward Adam and kisses him again, long and soft, despite the angle.

“You’re sweaty,” Adam says, when he finally pulls away.

“Yeah, well, it’s fucking hot out.”

“Hmm. Wanna go for a swim?”

“In the dark?”

“What’s the point of dreaming about light all the time if you don’t put it to good use?”

Ronan blinks at him. He hasn’t dreamt much of anything lately, but Adam doesn’t know that.

Adam gets up and kicks off his shoes. He reaches down to pull off his socks and tosses them aside, then starts walking barefoot toward the pond. Ronan watches him slowly remove his shirt and drop it in the grass without pausing. Then Adam’s hands drift down to his belt, and Ronan feels a flurry of arousal as Adam stops by the edge of the water to step out of his jeans. By the time he removes his boxers, Ronan is already on his feet, moving toward the water, admiring the view every step of the way. Adam wades in up to his waist before he turns to face Ronan, a sly grin on his face.

“Come on in, Lynch,” He calls, sinking down further into the water. “The water’s fine.”

God, Ronan is going to miss him. His composure crumbles a bit and he smiles wickedly back as he removes his own clothing. He wishes he had his wings so he could cannonball into the water and splash the grin off Adam’s face. He settles for a shallow dive in Adam’s direction and knocks his feet out from under him. They horse around in the water, splashing and dunking each other, until finally they just cling to each other in the deepest part of the pond. The fireflies hang close to the surface of the water, reflecting and shimmering in the ripples as they move away from them. The scene is disgustingly romantic and Ronan feels like he could burst with pride for this place they’ve created together.

Adam’s arms and legs circle around Ronan and he reaches up and pushes Adam’s wet hair out of his eyes. Suddenly, he’s filled with a rush of both extreme happiness and extreme sadness at the same time.

“Ronan, I’m…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Why?”

Ronan kisses him.

Adam breaks away. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I do.”

“What?”

“You were going to say that you’re coming back.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Oh yeah? What were you going to say then?”

“I’m happy.”

Ronan kisses Adam again, this time opening up to him, their tongues sliding easily together. Then he stands up, toes digging into the pond’s muddy bottom and lifts Adam out of the water, his legs still wrapped around Ronan’s waist, arms still wrapped around his neck.

Adam laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” Ronan responds, moving ungracefully through the water.

“You can put me down. I’ll gladly go with you.”

“No.”

“Seriously, Lynch?”

“I’m a Southern gentleman.”

Adam laughs harder, yet he tightens his grip. “Somehow I don’t think this qualifies.”

“Too fucking bad.”

Ronan carries Adam naked and dripping into the house and up to his bedroom, where he finally cedes control, allowing Adam to flip him onto his back and use those beautiful hands that Ronan loves so much. He wants Adam to go faster and he wants him to slow down and he wants him to add another finger and he wants him to use his cock instead. He wants to kiss Adam softly as Adam pushes into him slow and deep. He wants to kiss Adam hard and bite his lips and suck on his tongue while Adam fucks him fast and unyielding. He wants to have sex with Adam every day for the rest of his life. He wants to love him and marry him and raise children with him here at the Barns. He wants. He wants. He wants.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

He wants Adam to stay, but he can’t ask. He will never ask.

 

*********

 

Ronan stands in front of the mirror in the upstairs bathroom, his face streaked again with black. He rinses his mouth until the water runs clear, then he brushes his teeth. He finds an old bottle of mouthwash in the cabinet and figures it can’t hurt him any worse that he’s already been hurt tonight, so he swishes some for good measure.

Adam hovers outside the bathroom door, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. There’s a smear of grease on his cheek.

Ronan spits the rancid mouthwash in the sink. “Did it work?” he asks, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Like a dream,” Adam responds. The joke falls flat.

Ronan pivots, suddenly angry, and forcefully yanks back the shower curtain, ripping part of it from it’s hooks. He turns on the water anyway.

Adam steps into the room. “You’re mad,” he says, more of an observation than a question.

Ronan makes a disdainful noise in response and tears off his stained t-shirt.

“No,” Adam says, “Tell me. Use words.”

“I thought I fucking knew how this worked,” he says, balling up the dirty shirt and throwing it down on the floor. “Why do I have to keep figuring this shit out on my own?” It’s an echo of a question he’s asked himself a thousand times before - _why isn’t there anyone else like me?_

“You’re not alone.”

Ronan scoffs as he continues to undress. “I have to dream in order to not die and the first thing I dream _to save my life_ is something that sends you away. Doesn’t get more alone than that.”

Adam steps closer. Steam from the open shower billows around him. “Ronan.”

“I just didn’t expect dying and living to feel like the same thing,” he says, which is absurd in a way, because there was a time not that long ago when Ronan was certain that dying and living felt exactly the same.

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam says again. His frustration palpable.

“You wanted words, so have them. I don’t need you to save me.”

Adam crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Ronan. He says nothing, but his silence calls Ronan’s bluff.

“Whatever,” Ronan says, stepping into the shower. The water is way too hot, but he endures it. If he can’t feel tough at the moment, at least he can look it, which works until Adam outsmarts him by stepping into the shower with all of his clothes on.

“What the fuck, Parrish?”

“We’re not done,” Adam says, adjusting the temperature of the water.

“What else is there to say?”

“You may not need anything from me, but I need something from you.”

Shame washes over Ronan and swirls down the drain along with the black streaks of his unmaking. He knows it’s never been easy for Adam to admit that he needs something from anyone. It never will be easy. But he’s getting better at knowing the difference between love and charity.

“Promise me that you won’t stop dreaming.”

Ronan closes his eyes and turns to face the shower spray. He lets the water baptize him anew. Lets it wash away the fuzzy, static nothingness of a dreamless dreamer and fill him again with the buzz of creation.

“Please,” Adam asks, and it sounds like a prayer.

Ronan turns back around to face him and reaches up to wipe the grease off Adam’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Okay, Parrish.”

Adam lets out a breath, and then sputters when Ronan shifts and the spray hits him in the face. He wipes at his face and grins.

“What do we do now?” Ronan asks.

“Tonight we’ll get some rest and tomorrow you’ll manifest your new dreamplace and we’ll get Opal settled and then it’ll be easy. You’ll be able to dream anything you want.”

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll go.”

“But you’ll come back.”

Adam nods.

Ronan smirks. “All you want to do tonight is rest?”

“Shut up,” Adam says, but he pulls Ronan into a deep kiss and Ronan pulls off his wet clothes and the water never gets cold and Ronan thinks he probably has his father to thank for that, if nothing else.

Later, when Adam whispers “I love you”, it feels like salvation.

Maybe it isn’t permanent. Maybe life will continue to push them to the brink.

But of one thing, Ronan is certain.

They will save each other again. They’re both still breathing.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Look, that pond is closer to the house than you think, ok?


End file.
